


Forbidden Fruit

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Coming In Pants, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sam, Drunkenness, Forbidden Love, Kinda fingering, M/M, No actual sex, Teasing, They should be working, Top Dean, but are kissing instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest—isn't that how the saying goes?<br/>Sam knew from experience that it was true, knew how good drinking demon blood used to feel. So really, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that when he found something else clearly not meant for him, he just couldn't help but indulge...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbidden Fruit

 

Sam could count on one hand the number of times he got drunk. He got tipsy more often, but that didn’t count as “I will jump out of this window because I believe I’m secretly Superman” drunk. And it really wasn’t because he was a coward, afraid of the burn in his throat, but more because he simply didn’t enjoy the hazy-minded drunken state he usually got into whenever he drank too much.

But when the case itself required him to chug a whole bottle of alcohol, well then, that’s what he was going to do.

They were hunting a Shōjō, a spirit infamous for needing whoever wished to lay eyes on its creepy form to get drunk. A poor business man got cursed for—surprise surprise—cheating on his wife for years. He even had two illegitimate kids going for him, so it was kind of understandable why an asshole like him would get to play the victim’s role. Sam and Dean heard about the case from Garth, who was quick to recognize the monster responsible for the murder of the man as the alcohol spirit, and since he was busy dealing with a pack of werewolves, he thought the brothers would like to take the case for themselves. When they agreed, Garth gave them the coordinates of the next possible victims, who were supposed to be the kids. They were only four and six years old, a brother and a sister, so Sam and Dean made sure to get there as soon as possible and knife that Japanese sucker.

They set up a smaller base in an abandoned building which came with some decomposing mattresses, a few creaking chairs and tables, and several spider webs they spent at least an hour annihilating. Sam hacked into the security cameras watching the potential victims’ home, installed by the paranoid wife after her lover met an untimely death, while Dean got them some of the strong stuff.

He put two bottles on the table and carefully sat down into the chair next to Sam, letting out a silent sigh as the wood merely creaked, but didn’t collapse under him.

Their plan was to get drunk, watch the video feed until something moved, then rush the spirit with the katana they got blessed a few hours earlier. This time by an actual Shinto priest, which was kinda neat.

Dean nodded to the screen of the laptop and looked at him. “The cameras really are surrounding the house, huh? How many are these? One every damn feet?”

“Actually, there are eight of them,” Sam said, pointing at the many cubes on the screen showing different angles of the house. “Front, back, everywhere, so it’ll be hard to miss the spirit when she’ll finally decide to show herself.”

“Real life Grudge,” his brother grumbled. “I’d much rather just watch the horror movie.”

“Hey, we managed to knife one of her kind before, so this shouldn’t go too bad. We even know how they think, for the most part.”

“Last time we had Bobby helping us out,” Dean mentioned, then sighed. “Whatever, let’s get drunk.”

He reached for a bottle Sam had no idea what kind of poison it contained—as Dean needed something inhumanely strong to get drunk, probably something that was just pure alcohol—and after struggling with the cap, poured a generous amount in his glass. Sam followed his example, opening the bottle of tequila that was meant for him and filling his own glass to the middle. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t need too much to feel the drink’s full effects, unlike his brother, who was overfilling his glass and taking long chugs, not even stopping to remotely enjoy the burning taste.

The tequila Dean picked was strong, Sam pulling a face at the taste, but he needed to keep drinking until he was feeling light headed. He refilled the glass once it sat empty on the table, then glanced at his brother to check how he was faring, and he had to do a double-take to make sure the alcohol wasn’t getting to his brain already.

“Dean, you do realize that the goal ain’t for us to get shit-faced, right?” he asked as he watched his brother drinking from the bottle, already nearly half of its content gone.

His brother flashed him a grin as he pulled the bottle away from his mouth. “I’ll be fine, Sammy. Don’t under stimate my drinkin’ abilities.”

“You mean ‘underestimate’,” he said, then couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the confused frown on Dean’s face. “Alright, no, you’re definitively drunk.” He smiled and snatched the bottle away from his huffing brother, moving it to the other side of the table, then was about to raise the glass to his lips when Dean grabbed his wrist and slammed the glass back onto the table.

“And you’re clearly not drunk enough,” he stated, before filling Sam’s glass to the rim with tequila and grinning at him. “Bottoms up!”

He sighed, but knowing from experience that arguing with a drunk Dean was practically impossible, Sam leaned forward and slowly raised the glass, careful not to spill anything, then squeezed his eyes shut as he downed the tequila.

He coughed and nearly started gagging, which just sent his brother into a laughing fit. “You’re such a jerk, asshole,” Sam mumbled, glaring at him. Or maybe just squinting intensely, he wasn’t sure.

“Should’ve seen your face!” Dean laughed, then pointed at him and started laughing harder when Sam made some sort of a mix of a growl and a snort.

“Shuddup, you midget,” he scoffed, the smirk quickly freezing then vanishing from his face as he saw something move on one of the cameras. “Crap, ghost thing!” Sam jumped to his feet, staggering and feeling like his knees could turn to jelly any moment, then was already stumbling toward the door when Dean’s voice stopped him.

“Sam.” His brother stared at the screen, then pointed at it as he looked up at him. Dean blinked lazily, opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something but kept forgetting what, then frowned and slowly made his way over to Sam without tripping on his own feet.

“What?” Sam asked when he stopped in front of him.

Dean poked his chest with his still extended finger and looked deep into Sam’s eyes, before stating, “It was a squirrel.”

They both just stood there for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

“I saw a squirrel? Seriously?” Sam was holding his head as the laughing fit shook his shoulders, wobbling left and right as he backed into the door, and now he was certain that he was drunk.

Though he couldn’t really focus on that thought for too long because, well, he was drunk. “Look out Sammy, the spirit of the rabid fluffy squirrel is comin’ to get ya!” Dean said tauntingly, stumbling forward, then leaned against Sam’s chest and patted his shoulder as he couldn’t stop laughing and snickering either.

When they both calmed down and stopped giggling like teenagers, Sam braced himself fully against the door and took a deep breath, feeling strangely happy and hot. He ruffled his hair, fanning himself with his hand, then glanced at Dean to see his brother staring at him with somewhat dazed eyes.

“Don’t pass out on me…” Sam warned, but then his voice trailed off as he found himself looking not at Dean’s eyes but rather his lips. He blinked and tried to rip his gaze away from those full lips, but for some reason he couldn’t, and all of a sudden it seemed as if the temperature in the room had risen.

“Yeah,” Dean said smartly, furrowing his brow as he tried to keep standing still, his own eyes shifting from Sam’s face to his body. His brother’s stare was intense as he studied seemingly every inch of his body, and when he licked his lips, Sam felt a shiver run down his spine.

He swallowed nervously when Dean looked back at him, noticing how his pupils were dilated and face slightly flushed. “Uh, your lips…” Sam mumbled, feeling as his own face heated up, but all he could see were his big brother’s pink and surely soft lips in front of him, his mind clouded and his thoughts blurry. “They look nice.”

Those inviting lips curled into a smirk as Dean leaned forward and pressed his chest against Sam’s. “Do they?”

Sam could hear his pulse in his ears, could feel the way his heartbeat and breathing accelerated as he nodded.

“You jealous of ‘em?” his brother asked, slowly poking his tongue out and running it along the soft flesh, before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and flashing a seductive look at Sam.

He was speechless for a long time, clenching and unclenching his hands as he gazed at his brother, then when he realized he has been holding his breath, he quickly let it out in a shaky exhale.

“I’m… I guess,” Sam said lowly, his voice weak. “Must feel good. I mean on you ‘coz they’re pretty and…uh, squishy?”

Dean raised his eyebrows then chuckled, shaking his head, and Sam felt as if his whole body suddenly caught fire, his face heating up in embarrassment.

“Yeah, sure.” His brother grinned at him in a rather dirty way once he stopped enjoying Sam’s misery; then suddenly Dean’s hands were sliding up to his neck, one of them wrapping around the nape of it while the other’s fingers got tangled in his hair. He moved impossibly closer and whispered, “Wanna try?”

Sam’s eyes widened at the suggestion, hesitating and not daring to even breathe as he kept glancing from Dean’s eyes to his lips. He felt like he should react, maybe say something, but then after a long moment all he managed to do was nod.

His brother’s grin widened and he didn’t waste a second as he pulled Sam into a kiss. When Dean pressed those gorgeous lips against his, it felt like time stopped, Sam’s heart skipping a beat and his breath hitching as the warm flesh caressed his, unable to stifle the small sound that escaped his throat. He moved his slightly trembling hands to his brother’s waist, then wrapped his arms around it, leaning in and cautiously returning the kiss. His eyelids fell shut as Dean’s wet tongue ventured out of his mouth and swiped along Sam’s lower lip, teasing him, and then slipped past his lips to assault his mouth. A soft whine left him when his brother licked his tongue, then caught it between his teeth and sucked on it, nibbling and tugging before letting go and doing the same to his bottom lip. Sam was soon moaning into the hot kiss, digging his fingers into Dean’s skin as he kissed him breathless, harder and with more teeth as seconds trickled by, the two of them licking into each other’s mouth for what seemed like minutes.

When they finally broke the fervent kiss and eased away from each other, they were both panting, completely out of breath, and Sam felt dangerously weak at the knees. He licked his kiss bitten lips, noticing how Dean’s darkened from all the kissing, and it was all he could do not to grab his brother and claim those lips one more time.

“Fuck, this is wrong,” Dean growled, Sam hissing when his brother’s nails sank into the skin on his neck and fingers tightened in his hair.

“Yeah,” he sighed and slowly buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, earning a low groan from him. “We should stop.”

“I know, really gotta stop, can’t do this…” his brother said in a voice dripping with lust, deep and slightly hoarse, before tugging on Sam’s hair and making him raise his head.

He hoped it wasn’t a whine he heard himself make as they made eye contact, but then he needed to admit that he was in fact whining shamelessly, because Dean was growling like a hungry wolf and watching him with eager eyes, full of forbidden desire.

“Dean,” he whispered, “you need to move, or…”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Fuck, Sammy, I know,” Dean groaned, as if talking was causing him physical pain, but didn’t move. He lowered his head, taking deep and long breaths, and when Sam glanced down at their bodies, another wave of intense heat and a tingling sensation swept through his body when he noticed the tent if both of their pants.

They seriously needed to get away from each other, but Sam’s arms were still wrapped around his brother and neither of them were even trying to move.

“So bad,” his brother said after the moment of heavy silence was over, looking back at Sam. “This is so fucking nasty. God, Sam, look at this.” He reached between them and palmed the younger man’s crotch, Sam gasping at the sudden touch.

“Dean, stop,” Sam pleaded, but his words didn’t match his body’s response as he bucked into his brother’s warm hand, seeking friction and wanting it so much, needing it. Then Dean replaced his hand with his own bulge and began grinding against him, hard, and Sam was leaning his head back and moaning.

“Can’t do it, Sammy,” Dean breathed, attacking his exposed neck and drawing a pathetic mewl out his brother. “Shit, I really can’t. Fuckin’ hell, so dirty, so wrong—feels so damn good.”

And as his brother began licking and kissing at the burning skin at his neck, Sam reached another point of desperation. “Please, please Dean!” he whined, not even sure what he was begging for anymore, for Dean to stop or to never stop, but he needed something, and he needed it badly. Sam clawed at his brother’s back, raking his nails down his jacket and rolling his hips in rhythm with Dean’s own thrusts of his hips, both of them grinding against each other hopelessly and roughly. That feeling alone was enough to make a moaning mess out of him, which intensified when Dean bit him, over and over again, greedily sucking and marking his skin.

“Damn it, stop being so fucking adorable,” Dean growled lowly in his ear and licked it, teasing the outline of his ear with his tongue, before nibbling and nipping at it. Sam gasped and whimpered, then yanked his brother into a fierce kiss, taking everything. Immediately returning and deepening the kiss, Dean’s hands stroked his sides while forcing the back of Sam’s head into the door with his violent kiss, crushing their lips together and using way too much tongue and teeth. But Sam loved it and would have begged for more if his voice wouldn’t have been muffled by those eager lips, so instead he just made small, appreciative sounds.

Then just when he thought this couldn’t get any hotter, he tore his lips from Dean’s and cried out in surprise when he felt his brother’s hands slip under his pants and grope his ass, pulling him closer and intensifying the extreme feeling of their clothed erections rubbing together.

Dean let out a nasty chuckle at his reaction and licked at the sensitive spot behind his ear. “Feels good, Sammy? Got such a sweet ass, fuck, never thought I’d want it so bad,” he purred as his fingers curled and massaged Sam’s ass.

“Oh God, Dean!” he keened, feeling like he could come any second now because this was too much, too wrong and too right, and he was moaning his own big brother’s name as the man slid a finger to his hole and began teasing it. Sam felt like sobbing then, his orgasm building up, and he was pushing both ways, grinding hard against Dean while rocking back on the finger that was circling his entrance before slowly breaching the tight ring of muscle.

Dean was fucking fingering him, sliding the digit in and out of his ass all the while keeping his cheeks spread for better access and groping them with each thrust, each skillful and hot grind of his hips, and that was it. Sam was screaming and moaning lewdly as he came like that, emptying his load in his underwear with a shiver. He panted heavily, fighting to keep his eyes open as he leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder, his brother still grinding against him; however it wasn’t long before he was coming as well, cursing and groaning and gluing his body to Sam’s.

He blinked lazily, then just closed his eyes, lightly nuzzling his brother’s neck and placing kisses on the sweaty skin between small kitten licks. Dean pulled his hands out from his pants and wrapped them around his body in a way that suspiciously resembled hugging, while humming and making pleased sounds each time Sam’s tongue or lips pampered him.

Then, after a long while and when they were both beginning to shudder from the uncomfortable feeling of their come cooling in their underwear and sticking to their skin, they pulled away from the warm embrace and glanced at each other.

“Gotta change clothes,” Dean remarked with a frown.

“Yeah,” he agreed, swallowing thickly, “and we still have a monster to catch.”

His brother sighed and rubbed his face. “Crap, right.”

Another moment of silence, and Sam slowly shuffled over to the mattress with their duffels on top, rummaging through his and looking for a clean pair of underwear while trying real hard not to think about the reason why needed it. He quickly changed, catching a glimpse from the corner of his eyes of his brother doing the same after walking over to the mattress, then sat back on the chair.

When Dean joined him, he glanced at the screen on the laptop, then at Sam. “Should we rewind it?”

He shrugged, but did so anyway, both of them doing a good job at not bringing up the past few minutes while they watched as nothing happened. Sam let out a sigh of relief that the kids they were supposed to protect didn’t get murdered while he and his brother had a thing close to sex, then he quickly averted his eyes when he felt Dean’s gaze on him.

“That was really fucked up, Sam,” he heard his brother say, and his heart sank, “but we were drunk, so…”

He finally looked at Dean, but instead of the disgust and guilt, the shame he expected to see on his brother’s face, there was only sadness. That, and fine, maybe a bit of guilt.

“So?” Sam found himself asking, swallowing and clenching his jaw when Dean leaned closer and placed a hesitant hand on his thigh.

“So that’s my excuse for touching you,” he said with a small sigh, and if Sam wouldn’t have known his brother better, he might have said Dean sounded somewhat sheepish, maybe even shy.

He stared at Dean for the longest moment, and then smiled, a smile that quickly widened at the surprised look on his brother’s face. “I don’t think you need an excuse for that, Dean,” he said and put his hand on his brother’s, squeezing it for good measure.

“I don’t?” Dean raised an eyebrow and flashed a cocky grin at him, Sam laughing and shaking his head.

“Nope, you don’t,” Sam assured him.

“Does that mean that I can do whatever I want from now on? With you?” he asked, pulling his chair closer and flashing such an obscene grin at Sam that he didn’t need to ask what Dean meant by that.

“Well, I don’t know,” he said teasingly, pretending to consider it. “That depends. Would it involve things we really shouldn’t be doing?”

“Hell yeah, all sorts of forbidden things,” Dean said with a wink, and Sam felt so happy he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

“Then yes,” he declared, quickly closing the distance between them and placing a quick kiss on his brother’s lips, those wonderful lips that now belonged to him. “A thousand times yes.”

And the look on Dean’s face, as his eyes lit up in happiness and face split into a wide smile, was worth every shit they would get for this guilty pleasure.

 


End file.
